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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302789">A Stainless Scepter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttolianLily/pseuds/AttolianLily'>AttolianLily</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, RotT Spoilers, Unfinished</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:35:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttolianLily/pseuds/AttolianLily</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Irene-"<br/>"Don't call me that."<br/>"You were the princess Irene the first time we met."<br/>"It means 'peace,'" Attolia said. "What name could be more inappropriate?"<br/>"That I be named Helen?" Eddis suggested.<br/>The hard lines in Attolia's face eased, and she smiled.</p><p>Attolia and Eddis have history. The countries, and the queens.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Attolia | Irene/Eddis | Helen, Implied Attolia | Irene/Eugenides</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>“And whether consciously or not, you must be in many a heart enthroned: queens you must always be: queens to your lovers; queens to your husbands and sons; queens of higher mystery to the world beyond, which bows itself, and will forever bow, before the myrtle crown, and the stainless scepter of womanhood.“</p><p>-John Ruskin</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddis waited at the landing stage, apprehensive. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through her hair - it would be <em>unqueenly -</em> and glanced around at her officers and ministers and Attolia's ones gathered around her. The water was dark and turbulent, wind creating ripples and splashes.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"My Queen?" He had asked, turning back from the door as she called him.</p>
  <p>"Only for that." Eddis had answered. </p>
  <p>Eugenides had smiled - as he hadn't in so long -  and bowed his head. "My Queen."</p>
  <p>Then he was gone, and she was left alone in the silent throne room.</p>
</blockquote><p>She was still thinking of her Thief when some of her entourage began to murmur to one other, and she straightened to see a boat begin to make its way down the Seperchia from a distance. A dark figure sat in the boat, silhouetted against the night, completely motionless. When she was closer, she could make out her face - pale, stunningly beautiful, and devoid of all emotion. Eddis's gaze never left the other queen as she was lifted from the boat.</p><p>When she was on the riverbank, she arranged the folds of her dress and finally raised her stormy gray eyes to Eddis's face. She waited, suddenly aware of her shortness, her ugly scarred face, and her men's clothes. She searched for the kindness of a friend, or the ruthlessness of the woman who cut off Gen's hand, in her face and found nothing, only a blank courtesy. She was confused as to why Gen would want her after everything - not for her beauty, but what? </p><p>"We are in accord, Your Majesty?" Attolia asked, still formal but with a slight hint of haughtiness in her expression. "Remarkably so," Eddis said carefully, as not to overstep. She didn't know why she was so intimidated by her, surrounded by her own men.</p><p>"How is your head, sir?" Attolia asked, directing her sharp gaze towards her Minister of War. Eddis hadn't expected that. She looked at them with curiosity. "Gray." He answered shortly. "With worry?" Attolia asked. "You don't like our harum-scarum plans?" "I am filled with admiration for them, Your Majesty," He bowed, and Attolia returned it with a curtsy. "Your head?" Eddis asked, uncomprehending. She hadn't noticed before when she was preoccupied but saw now that the minister held himself slightly more rigid than usual, staring straight ahead. Eddis had assumed it was Attolia's presence.</p><p>"He had to be forcibly disengaged from strangling his own son," Attolia said bitterly. The minister stiffened beside her. Eddis thought of a number of things to say and opened her mouth to question the queen before she met Attolia's gaze.</p><p>Attolia- no, Irene - was afraid. No one else might have noticed, but she could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes, from when she had consoled her when they had met occasionally - when she admitted that her father had said he had no use for her, after her brother had had an accident, when she had been forced to marry a man two or three times her age. Her mask was there, hard and cold as always, but underneath it was the woman Irene, alone and terrified of the future.</p><p>"So have we from time to time," Eddis said seriously, but there was subtle humor in her words, almost daring Irene to reach out towards her. Perhaps it was reckless, but she couldn't help herself.</p><p>Attolia raised a perfect eyebrow. Eddis frowned slightly, then smiled. <em>Oh, Gen. </em>She thought. Maybe there was still hope for him.</p><p>Irene saw her smile and hesitantly smiled back, unsure of herself. She had forgotten how beautiful Irene's smile could be, Helen realized. Rare, but worth it a thousand times. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic is going to take place over carious time periods: 1, 3, and 5 from The Queen of Attolia, 2, 4, and 6 from pre-canon, and 7 from Return of the Thief. Take note!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hello, are you Irene?"</p><p>The princess started. She had been watching the Eddisians file out of the room, studying all of these people with their dark skin and intricate tattoos. She wondered what the marks represented. She had always been kept with her nurse or a few bossy attendants in the palace and had seen few Eddisians save the ambassador's retinue and other courtiers. She wondered what they were like - if half of the court were violent savages like her father always claimed. Her father, she had begun to realize, wasn't always right about things.</p><p>She turned to the person who stood behind her, slightly annoyed at being surprised. She didn't get distracted too often. It was, to her surprise, a girl - smaller and probably younger than she was - who looked about nine, even though Irene wasn't that good at guessing people's ages. She was short with tight cropped black hair and a dark complexion that marked her as Eddisian. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress with griffons embroidered on it - it was ill-fitting, she noted, and the girl squirmed in it, uncomfortable and unreluctant to show it - and to her surprise, she was smiling at Irene. The smile made Irene feel warm, even as her instincts warned her to be wary around the other princess; for this was indeed Helen, the crown princess of Eddis.</p><p>(She had heard of this child - she thought of her as one, even though she yourself was still under the care of her nurse - before. The courtiers sometimes spoke of her, scornful of the barbarian princess training to fight with her male cousins and wearing trousers. Irene had smiled and nodded politely, secretly wishing that she could be so free, could learn how to defend herself, have friends and family that were not so distant.)</p><p>"Y-yes." She answered, hating how her voice sounded so weak and unsure in comparison. The girl didn't seem to notice and happily carried on. "Hi! I'm Helen. You've come for the Festival of Moira, right? I've heard of you." Heard of what, Irene wondered. Heard of how she killed her own mother while being born, heard of how she was terrified of crowds, heard of how she cowered from the barons who commented condescending on what a <em>pretty one </em>she was while looking at her like a servant girl, not a future queen?</p><p>"Yes, I have. You must be Helen, right?" She said before instantly realizing that Helen had said so only a moment before. "Oh! I mean-" She stumbled, blushing. <em>Why </em>was she so awkward, why couldn't she carry on polite conversation as a normal princess should? Small wonder her father didn't care about her. "-Sorry."</p><p>The girl - <em>Helen - </em>laughed. She was briefly scandalized by how she had managed to make a fool of herself with a rival princess in less than a minute before realizing that it wasn't a mean laugh, but a friendly, good-natured chuckle. She relaxed slightly, still flushed. </p><p>Helen took note of Irene's face and immediately stopped, looking guilty. "I'm sorry if I offended you. You must be nervous."</p><p>"No, it's fine- I'm okay-" The conversation was so ridiculous that Irene actually laughed, an uncertain, high-pitched, ugly giggle. She covered her mouth with her hand, keeping it in place until she composed her expression back into a polite neutrality. Gods, what had gotten into her today?</p><p>Helen studied her for a moment. Irene was scared that she would think her mad - she herself wasn't sure that she was not - until the other girl opened her mouth and declared, "You look pretty when you laugh. You should do it more often." Irene's cheeks warmed at the praise. It meant nothing, coming from a foolish child, she told herself. But it felt so natural, so different from the condescension of the barons or the indifferent remarks of her father. She liked Helen.</p><p>A man walked up to them, dressed in an elegant blue-and-green embroidered shirt. He was broad shouldered and slightly shorter than average, dark skinned and wearing a golden weaved circlet on his curls. The king of Eddis, Irene realized. She had never seen him before, but had heard stories. She curtseyed, silently hoping that he would not disapprove of her talking with his daughter. They were rival countries, after all.</p><p>The king nodded at Irene politely. "Come, Helen. We need to introduce you to the ministers." he said in a deep, accented voice.</p><p>Helen was led away by an attendant, muttering that she wanted to talk to the princess more. She wanted to talk to <em>her, </em>even after the awkward conversation and her wariness. </p><p>Despite herself, Irene felt a glow of warmth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More chapters to be added soon!</p><p>You can find me on Tumblr @returnofthethief</p></blockquote></div></div>
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